


5 Terrible First Dates and One That Was Really Great

by agirlintheville



Series: Muscly McPotty Mouth and Doc B-Squared [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlintheville/pseuds/agirlintheville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is terrible at first dates. The story of 5 terrible first dates that he went on and one first date that turned out great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Terrible First Dates and One That Was Really Great

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I'm writing a series...so exciting!
> 
> This is an extension of the first story, because the thought of being caught in the rain on a terrible first date was stuck in my head. Plus, I love 5 +1 fics!
> 
> Some slight spoilers for the first story, but nothing too awful.  
> Please let me know what you think!

1.

Clint was very young when he realized that sometimes Papa wasn't always Papa, that sometimes he was Someone Else. Someone Else yelled all the time and broke things and made his Mama cry. Mama made sure to keep him and Barney upstairs and out of the way when Someone Else came home in the evenings.

But once, when Papa was Papa, he had hugged Clint to him and told him how special his Mama was. “She’s resourceful, smart, and, best of all, she has a beautiful soul.” It was one of the last things that Clint remembered clearly about his Papa. Someone Else came home more and more after that. Before he knew it, Papa, Mama, and Someone Else were all gone and he and Barney were sent to live with Mary and Jason.

Clint was 6 years old when he realized what Papa had meant by Mama having a beautiful soul. It was the first week of kindergarten and he was placed in the lower class because he couldn't read. He was playing with the legos during morning play time, when Colin came and sat next to him.

Colin was eye-catching. Clint could always pick Colin out of a group- he was tall, taller than anyone else in the class, with bright red hair and freckles all over his face. His blue eyes seemed electric and Clint felt almost giddy when those blue eyes focused on him as Colin asked for a red brick.

The next day he asked Colin on a date. He knew that was what you’re supposed to do when you liked someone- he’d seen it on TV. He asked him right before quiet time- planned it so that if Colin said no, he could go hide in the boy’s bathroom until it was time to go to music.But Colin said yes, with a blinding grin, and gave Clint a big hug, almost picking him up.

Clint set up their date behind the big slides on the playground. He pulled over an empty milk crate that the teachers sometimes used to store the outdoor toys and managed to steal two cartons of milk and two packages of cracker and cheese sandwiches from the lunch line.

Colin sat at the table with his wide grin. He took Clint’s hand, looked him in the eyes, and told him thank you. Clint grinned back as he looked into Colin’s electric eyes. _He has a beautiful soul._ His Papa’s words came to him and he knew suddenly what they might mean.

Both boys jerked as the milk crate was suddenly kicked over, milk and crackers falling into the dirt. Clint looked up to see Barney standing above them.

“What the hell, Barney?” Clint stood up. He looked at Colin, who was clearly scared.

Barney stared at him in disgust, “What the hell are you two doing?”

“We were on a date. Now go away.”

The fall to the ground was sudden and painful as was the punch to the stomach. He began to cry as he tried to get his breath back. He heard Colin crying. Barney was yelling at him to get out here, away from his little brother, calling him a sissy girl.

“Get…get away,” Clint gasped out. He didn't know if he was talking to Barney or to Colin.

Colin ran away, still crying. Barney glared after the boy, clenching his fists. He spun back towards Clint, who cowered and tried to scoot away. His brother grabbed his arm to pull him up.

“Come on,” Barney brushed off his shirt. “We’ll tell Miss Megan that you fell down.”

He started to lead Clint towards the blacktop where the teachers were, then stopped suddenly and gripped his shoulders. “Don’t you dare tell Mary and Jason about this.”

He nodded his head.

Barney sighed, “We gotta look out for each other. We’re all we got now.”

Clint nodded again, though he wasn't sure he understood.

Colin didn't speak to him again for the rest of the year. And Clint was in college before he dared ask another boy out on a date.

 

2.

Clint was sixteen when he asked Bobbi Morse, his biology lab partner, out to a movie. She had flipped her long, blonde hair and given him critical look. Clint had smirked back at her.

He knew how he looked- jeans ripped at the knees, oversized leather jacket, tshirt that was faded and too tight- the quintessential bad boy. Only he and Barney knew that their foster parents shopped for them at thrift stores, so they had to dress this way, it wasn't by choice. Bobbi had given him a coy smile back, twirled her hair between her fingers, and told him to bring the bike when he picked her up.

Clint roared up to the empty Bread Depot, a block away from Bobbi’s house. She was sitting on the curb, but she jumped up eagerly when she saw him. They had agreed to meet there because she didn't want her parents to know she was going out and, well, Clint wasn't exactly licensed to drive his motorcycle.

She slipped her arms around his waist as she got on behind him and rested her cheek on his back. _Just like in the movies_ , he thought, and he grinned as they took off down the street.

An hour later, he was staring at the worn carpet of the theater lobby while Bobbi cried next to him. “This is all your fault,” she hissed at him. He wasn't exactly sure it was. After all, it had been her idea to go down on him during the movie- he just hadn't try to stop her. He scratched his head; maybe that did make it his fault.

He sighed, patting her on the back as she continued to cry. It would have been great except his zipper had gotten caught in his pubic hair- no underwear completed the bad boy look- and he had cursed loud enough to catch the attention of the ushers, who had promptly dragged them out and made them call their parents.

Given the yelling that her parents did- about respect, curfews, lying, and the disgusted ‘this is the boy?’- in the lobby, and the yelling that she said continued at home, he wasn't sure why she agreed to keep meeting him at the Bread Depot. But she did and they went out and broke up and went out and broke up at least three times before they graduated high school and parted ways.

Later on, when she asked if he had gotten in trouble that night, he shrugged. He didn't tell her that Jason had laughed so hard in the car that he’d almost driven them off the side of the road and Mary had told him next time to wear briefs.

 

3.

He met Natasha during his first week of college. She lived on the girls’ floor in his building and was in his Introduction to Business Management class. He liked her legs, she liked his eyes, they agreed to get coffee.

It went bad from the beginning. Natasha had picked out a small, independent coffee house that was a far walk from campus but she said had the best vanilla mochas ever. Clint got lost trying to find it. When he showed up ten minutes late and stammering apologies, she rolled her eyes in annoyance and sent him to get the drinks that she had already ordered and paid for.

When he came back with mugs in hand, he placed them down on the table too quickly. Scalding liquid sloshed over his hand and spilled over the table to land on her thigh. She yelped and shoved backwards from the table, causing even more coffee to spill over his hand. Clint stood red faced as the barista rushed over with towels and ice. She heaved a sigh and shook her head at him.

They’d left after fifteen minutes- Clint had been too mortified to keep the strained conversation going. It started to cloud over as they walked back to campus, and they had just managed to hail a cab when the skies opened up.

He was sitting with her in the back of the cab when he realized that he couldn't feel his wallet. He swore viciously when he remembered that it was still sitting by his bedside table. Natasha closed her eyes for a few long seconds and then asked the driver if he took credit cards. “No cash, no ride,” and he dumped them out on the curb.

It rained harder as they walked back to the dorms and they dashed from overhang to overhang. They ended up huddled in the doorway of a bank when she told him that this was the worst date she had ever been on and they weren't going to do it again.

“I am so sorry,” he muttered miserably.

She turned her head and didn't answer.

“Can I still look at your legs?” he said, because, really, he didn't know when to stop talking sometimes.

She glared at him and then pushed him back out into the rain. She wore long skirts and pants to class for the rest of the year.

For some reason, they remained friends and even partnered together on a few class projects. She said that he was much more tolerable now that she had no romantic interest in him, but he might be good for her friend, Bobbi. (Bobbi who turned out to be high school Bobbi, who had hated her all girls college and had come back home for school. They dated and broke up three more times before she finally told him that it was over for good.)

 

4.

He was 20 and had just broken up with Bobbi for the second time. He was drinking his troubles away at the local dive bar, when a beautiful boy with coal black hair and a southern accent introduced himself as Richard and asked him to dance.

Clint had come to terms with his bisexuality during his first year of college, after his first break up with Bobbi, but hadn't really pursued anything beyond making out and hand jobs. The boy’s green eyes looked at him, eager and wanting, and...well, Clint really wanted to feel wanted. So they danced.

Clint asked him out in the men’s room, as Richard sucked on his neck and Clint shoved his hand down the boy’s jeans. Richard laughed and agreed.

Their first date was at a seafood place because Richard was a pescetarian, which Clint didn't even know was a thing. He ordered a shrimp scampi dish and, trying to making to make a good impression, flashed his fake ID so he could order an expensive bottle of white wine. Later, in the E.R., Richard took sips of the wine from the bottle, while Clint looked at him mournfully from puffy eyes.

“How did you not know that you had a shellfish allergy?” Richard shook his head, baffled.

“Dunno, just didn’t,” Clint mumbled. “Sorry about this.”

Richard shook his head again, then patted his hand. “It’s okay, next time we'll just get take-out.”

Clint smiled around his swollen face at the idea of another date.

Of course, it goes to shit in about three months when he catches Richard with another guy in the back seat of a black Jeep. Richard doesn't even step out of the car, just winds down the window to apologize, tells him it’s over.

Clint can’t catch his breath, feels his eyes burning hot, and knows he’s about to cry. He turns and runs all the way to Natasha’s apartment. She’s not home, but Bobbi lives down the street, so he goes to her place. And he stays. They date all the way to graduation before she tells him she’s done and moves three states away.

(Natasha introduces him to Jess, telling him that she’s crazier than he is, so it’ll work out. Oddly enough, his first date with her was perfect. He was on time, they both loved the restaurant, and when he kissed her at her door, the song "Time after Time" wafted out from her neighbor’s window. When everything went to hell, he admitted to Natasha that their perfect first date had led him to believe it would work out forever. Natasha sighed and said he was too romantic. He assured her that she and Colin were the only smart ones because they never went out with him a second time. She furrowed her brow and asked who Colin was; he slurred back, “A boy with a beautiful soul.” She sighed again and poured him another shot of tequila. He passed out after he finished it. When he woke up the next morning, he dumped the rest of the alcohol down the sink. He was done drinking.)

 

5.

Scott was a good looking guy- clean cut, strong jaw, short brown hair that was neatly combed. The only odd thing was that he wore red-tinted glasses. Extreme light sensitivity, he told Clint.

Clint had been hesitant about this date since he was also bidding on a contract to paint the interior and exterior of the guy’s fully restored Victorian. Clint itched to get his hands on the project, and, when Scott had asked him out, told him that he didn't want to intersect his business with his personal life. Scott had just raised his eyebrows and said he could compartmentalize and he would expect Clint to do so as well.

So here he was, after talking it through with Natasha and having her stare at him balefully- _Seriously, you want to go out with this guy? Why not- he’s cute, he’s rich, and he actually wants me. Clint, you know, he’s not the only one who wants you_.

Scott was droning away about the investment banking that he did for a living. It left Clint plenty of time to drift off and think about Natasha’s words- _He’s not the only one who wants you._

He realized Scott had stopped talking when the other man touched his hand lightly.

“I’m sorry, my mind wandered.”

“No, I’m sorry, I tend to yammer on about my job even though I know no one else finds it interesting.”

Clint gave him a polite smile and took a sip of his coffee.

Scott studied him and sighed, “This isn't working is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not really interested in this,” Scott waved his hand between them.

Clint stared at him for a few seconds, then dropped his gaze, “I’m sorry.”

“No it’s fine…”

“It’s just…there’s this guy…and…” Clint stopped, embarrassed. God, he was about to admit to a potential client and person he was currently on a date with that he was lovesick over another guy.

But Scott tilted his head and gave him an encouraging smile. Clint sighed, “It’s just he’s…incredible, and smart, and has this sarcastic sense of humor...and dear lord, I sound like a teenage girl.”

Scott laughed and raised his eyebrows, "Good body?"

Clint snorted and nodded, “Yeah, definitely.”

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

“He’s my kid’s teacher.”

“Ah,” Scott drained his coffee. “Well, sometimes you just have to take a flying leap. Even when you plan things out, life is pretty much improvisation.” Scott smiled gently and added, “My boyfriend taught me that.”

“Your what now?” Clint blinked at him. He couldn't have heard that right.

“My boyfriend. He’s the one on the couches over there, the one with the crazy hair. He insisted on coming to watch out for me,” Scott chuckled and shook his head.

Clint turned and saw a large man with heavy mutton chops glaring at them with narrowed eyes. When Scott waved at him, the man’s face softened and smiled. But then as Clint continued to stare, the man glared at him again. Clint quickly turned back around.

“Uh…I’m confused.”

“Well, I was going to tell you after we finished our coffees, but since this isn't happening,” Scott shrugged. “We were looking for a third.”

“A third what?” Clint frowned. When Scott raised an eyebrow and leered gently at him, he felt his cheeks turn red. “Oh. Like…in the bedroom?”

“Well, in life in general. Logan goes away on long trips and I enjoy having someone else around, so a third person would fill the void nicely.”

“Yeah,” Clint cleared his throat. “I’m not, I’m not really into that. I can barely handle one person.”

“No worries,” Scott said cheerfully. “We’ll keep looking.”

Scott stood and placed a bill under his coffee mug for the tip. “But,” he tapped the table, “I definitely want you to paint our house. Can you start Monday?”

“Really? Still?”

“Of course,” Scott gave him a look. “You’re the best. Only the best will do for my boy.” Then he smiled and threaded his way through the tables to join his boyfriend. Clint watched the way Scott accepted a kiss on his cheek and how the man immediately folded into the pair of large arms.

He sighed and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through the contacts until he found the entry for _Doc B-squared_. He pressed the call button and closed his eyes. When he heard the soft hello, he smiled.

 

+1.

“I told you, didn't I?”

“Clint.”

“No, I warned you. I specifically warned you that I was a terrible first dater but you still agreed to go out with me anyway. So really you can’t blame me for this. Because I warned you.”

Bruce laughed, “No one’s blaming anyone. Besides, like I told you- I’m counting all those conferences as dates. So, this is like our sixth date or something.”

It had taken three weeks before they could arrange a time to get together. In that time, they talked long hours on the phone, Clint had shown up at school with coffee, time and time again, and somehow managed to slip him notes that he found in his pockets later.

After they got the day down, it had been difficult to choose a venue. Clint shied away from coffee shops and restaurants, stating that he had terrible luck with those. Bruce finally invited him over to his house and offered to cook for him. Clint countered that they could cook together.

It had been…different. Bruce was orderly and liked to maintain a work triangle in the kitchen. It made cooking more of a meditative practice. Clint, though, was all movement and energy, opening the fridge several times, disdaining measuring tools, and sneaking bites of ingredients. Bruce had laughed so hard at him, that it was a wonder that they got the chicken into the oven at all.

He’d lit the wood stove and poured a soft drink into a couple of glasses. They had just settled on the couch to talk while the food cooked, when the power went out. He loved the convenience of electric appliances, but that meant a half cooked chicken was just hanging out in the oven until the power came back on.

While Clint groaned about his bad luck, Bruce rummaged in his pantry for a bag of chips, some cookies, and bread sticks. They sat on the floor next to the wood stove while they munched on the snacks, a flashlight balanced on the ground to give them more light.

He was recounting a story about one of his students who had started a club at school to save the trees around the building, when Clint leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. Bruce blinked at him. Clint leaned back with an uncertain look on his face and curled his fingers tight around his glass. 

Bruce reached out to grasp Clint’s free hand. “Thank you,” he said. Clint grinned back and moved over to snuggle next to him. He leaned his head on Bruce's shoulder and whispered, “This is a great first date."


End file.
